Bucs' New Coach Is Dungy's Exact Opposite

Jon Gruden Will Bring A Swagger To The Job That Laid-back Tony Dungy Eschewed.

February 19, 2002|By Brian Schmitz, Sentinel Staff Writer

This is like trading in your toy poodle for a pit bull -- and not worrying about his rabies.

The Tampa Bay Bucs couldn't have found a coach more different from Tony Dungy if they had stumbled around forever -- and, for a while, it looked as if they might.

With Jon Gruden in and Dungy out, the Bucs have not only added life to their listless offense but to their entire personality.

Gruden gives the Bucs a more true-to-their nature identity, offering some swagger at the top, which means the dueling egos of Warren Sapp and Keyshawn Johnson have some company on the marquee.

Gruden's intensity is as well-documented as Dungy's even-keel demeanor. He wears his emotions loudly on both sleeves while Dungy merely rolled his up and quietly went to work.

But then again, Gruden was nicknamed "Chucky" in Oakland because of his sideline game-face, a perpetual sourpuss that reminded many of the horror-movie doll. He learned temper tantrums while serving as a ball boy for Bobby Knight and has bent more than a few uncooperative golf clubs over his knee.

Gruden's transition from Raider to Buccaneer sounds like a natural. He looks and acts like a guy who could have plundered, thundered and wore an eyepatch in a previous life.

"I'm just an emotional guy. I hope I never change," Gruden has said. "I don't know a lot of coaches who just stand there when things are going good or when something bad happens."

Gruden obviously didn't watch Dungy on the sideline. Except for the occasional referee disagreements, Dungy was largely expressionless, diplomatic to a fault.

"If that is the etiquette that I have to attain," Gruden said, "I might be out of the league. I might not be able to do it."

Jay Gruden, Jon's brother and quarterback for the Orlando Predators of the Arena Football League, knows Jon could not comply if he had to check his competitive fire at the door.

Jay, at 34 four years younger than Jon, remembers how Jon had to win everything growing up -- even an argument.

"We went at each other pretty hard playing sports, but I'll never forget the fight we had one day in the street," Jay said. "It went on a good 30 minutes. We were arguing about something. Probably him calling me lazy because he was out running. I just quit because it hurt too bad.

"Jon was smart and knew everything about sports. We'd be playing basketball and he'd be the announcer, setting up our own NCAA Tournament. He'd let me get ahead and then beat me and call me `Pumpkinhead.' "

Jay says Jon's personality "makes him a tough guy to live with. Everything bothers him; somebody banging a cereal dish or getting in front of the TV. He has a passion about what he does. It's not a fake deal. He's definitely a perfectionist. If the left tackle comes out of his block too soon, he's going to be in that guy's face."

He'll even be in the faces belonging to Sapp and Keyshawn? "He'll get those guys to play for him," Jay said.

Gruden knows which buttons to push with people. He could work the Raiders' locker room as well as the Raiders' notorious Black Hole, home to the NFL's scariest fans.

Oakland defensive end Trace Armstrong remembers hearing one of Gruden's pep talks. "He said, `We're going to attack them and suck the will from them.' Those are the kinds of things guys get excited about," Armstrong said.

Jay says he's excited about seeing more of Jon, who has a chance to see Jay make his arena-league comeback.

Their parents, Jim, a football lifer, and Kathy, live in the Carrollwood area of Tampa, where they put down roots when Jim was an assistant for the Bucs.

Jay played high school football at Tampa Chamberlain. Jon would come home to Tampa during the summers when he was playing quarterback at Dayton. He worked at a local Hooters, shucking oysters.

Jim Gruden served as the Bucs' running backs coach from 1982-83 and as Tampa Bay's player personnel director in 1984. He was fired by then-coach Ray Perkins after the '84 draft.

The Grudens, Jon included, held a grudge against the Bucs for the longest time. "We hated the Bucs," Jay said. "We didn't like people firing `Pops.' "

Jon Gruden is an old-school workaholic like his father, setting his alarm clock during the season each morning for exactly 3:17 a.m. and the Notre Dame fight song. (No one knows why, but 317 is his favorite number.) Gruden went to high school in South Bend, Ind., when his dad was an assistant at Notre Dame, and dreamed of playing for the Fighting Irish.

After awakening at 3:17 a.m., Gruden usually was in the Raiders' offices from 4 a.m. to 11 p.m. most days.

He calls himself "a grinder" and has coaching in his DNA. His father also was an assistant at Indiana, and it was during that time that Jon worked as a ball boy on the Hoosiers' basketball team. Jon also hung around with Knight's son.

"Jon picked up a lot from Knight first-hand," Jim Gruden says.

A Bob Knight influence?

Wearing a new eyepatch, Jon Gruden certainly gives the Bucs a different look.